Baron [ſitting down, and trying to compoſe himſelf].
You are not to marry count Caſſel—And now, mention his name to me no more.
Amelia.
I won’t—indeed I won’t—for I hate his name.—But thank you, my dear father, for this good news [draws a chair, and ſits on the oppoſite ſide of the table on which he leans.—After a pauſe] And who am I to marry?
Baron [his head on his hand].
I can’t tell.
[Amelia appears to have ſomething on her mind which ſhe wiſhes to diſcloſe].
Amelia.
I never liked the Count.
Baron.
No more did I.
Amelia. [after a pauſe].
I think love comes juſt as it pleaſes, without being aſked.
Baron.
It does ſo. [in deep thought].
Amelia. [after another pauſe].
And there are inſtances where, perhaps, the object of love makes the paſſion meritorious.
Baron.
To be ſure there are.
Amelia.
For example; my affection for Mr. Anhalt as my tutor.
Baron.
Right.
Ame-